"…Sorry." Kael looked away.
Elara rolled her eyes, "I wanna leave."
Aldren replied, "We still have a meeting to attend to with the kingdom of Thandol for an alliance. They plan on harnessing energy from the Divine Tree with us to look for ways to at least summon two deities at once or make it happen faster."
"Hmph. Boring."
Queen Seraphine asked Marshy, "Your face, it's familiar. Wait! Are you..?"
Marshy said, "What do you want?"
Seraphine pouted, "Aw man."
"I don't wanna discuss who I am. I killed the deity associated with this tribe by the way. With the help of my student here."
Seraphine got excited, smiling, "Your sword can kill gods?!"
Marshy thought, 'She's ecstatic. Gross.'
King Aldred started with an excited smile as well, "Our advisor had placed the quest on the message board four days ago, and no one seemed to succeed in taking the quest, but here you two are. I expected it from you, knowing who you are. But this boy…who is he? His wounds are slowly healing on their own it seems!"
'Nevermind. They're both magic super fans.'
Marshy responded, "He's my student who lost his family to a kingdom of insane bastards. I took him in. They thought he was their god because he resembled him."
Seraphine then added, "We will grant you a large sum of gold coins for dealing with this issue. And I'll give a bonus if you show me how the sword works! Please."
King Aldred stepped in, smiling, "Show me too!"
Marshy looked at Kael, and asked, "Should I show them?"
Kael nodded silently.
Marshy sighed, and she lifted her sword "Swordren" up.
The Divine Tree isn't just a plant; it's an anchor for faith and despair, where gods are born from the collective pleadings of mortals. Each god embodies an Essence, a Soul of Essence, nurtured from the struggles and hopes of those who call upon them for aid. Swordren, my shadow sword or whatever — there's no other like it. I forged it myself, but not in any common fire. I traveled the rugged landscapes of Kgnarn, gathering what was needed, each component steeped in old power and wild, untamed magic. I ventured first to Laungan Veil, a mist-laden cliffside where the winds moan with the cries of the departed. There, the shadows cling tighter than a lover's embrace. It was in these shadows I found the Night Shard, a fragment of pure darkness, condensed over millennia into a near-indestructible material. Not easy to work with, mind you, but essential for a weapon meant to cleave through godly essences. My next journey took me to the volcanic belts of Skoirr, where fire and ash paint the landscape with the hues of dread and desolation. Among these fiery ribbons, blooms the Blazebloom, a rare flower resilient enough to not just survive, but thrive amongst the relentless sear. The petals of this flower, when cooled and mixed with the tears of the Weeping Rocks — sorrowful stones said to weep for the souls lost to the Divine Tree — create an alloy unmatched in its balance of flexibility and strength. With materials gathered, the crafting wasn't a mere act of smithing — it was a ritual. At the peak of Mount Vindur, under the eye of the storm, where lightning blesses the brave and curses the weak, I forged Swordren. Each strike of hammer to anvil harmonized with the tempest's roar, infusing the sword with the forces that bind the world of Kgnarn."
The King and Queen, both amazed, said in sync, "Amazing…"
Marshy continued, "The Soul of Essence within each god born from the Divine Tree isn't just spirit; it's power, memories, emotions. When Swordren pierces such a deity, it doesn't just kill; it absorbs that Essence, trapping it within its shadowy depths. Each thread of that god's existence then weaves into the wielder's tapestry, granting insight, or sometimes, torment…"
As she kept talking, Kael was right next to Elara, staring at them. One knight stepped in between Elara and Kael, saying, "Hey kid, don't get too close to the princess—."
Kael looked at him with malice, and the knight stopped speaking, looking away.
Elara watched, thinking, 'What's up with this guy? He looks about my age, but just looking at him…seems like he's been through so much. Not that I care or anything.'
One of the knights said to Elara, whispering, "While your parents are busy, why don't you talk to the boy?"
Elara said back, "No. I don't like people. I never have. I wanna go back home and train."
"You train all the time, maybe it's time to work on your people skills."
"No. If I connect with anyone, they'll just leave like always. No point."
"I think you get the wrong vibes from the kid. Look at him."
Elara looked at Kael, and Kael was kneeling on the ground, watching mythic bugs live their life on the ground, and even traced his finger near them to help them out.
Elara said, "He's quiet, but that bloodlust look that he gave the other knight…I felt that too. He's definitely odd and not an ordinary boy."
"At least talk to him."
"Ew. You sound like my parents, always want me to talk to someone. Fine. If it'll get you to shut up."
Elara hopped off of her horse as the knights helped her down, and she walked over to Kael.
Elara asked, "What are you doing?"
Kael didn't answer.
Elara continued, "Do you not like people like me?"
Kael looked at her, and nodded slowly.
Elara chuckled, "Good. We have something else in common. I'm princess Elara, the greatest princess to ever walk. What's your name?"
"Kael."
"Kael…there was some Jarl I heard that had that name. Are you…?"
"A Viking."
The knights gasped, and Elara said, "A Viking, huh..? There haven't been Vikings in this area in years."
A knight asked Kael, "I heard the Vikings train their young early, even giving them an ax right at birth, is that true? Have you ever killed anyone? I'm sure that woman did this all on her own right?"
One knight told that knight, "What kind of question is that to ask a kid?"
"I'm sorry! I haven't seen a Viking child in so long."
At that moment, Kael thought, 'The small ax on my side, it was given to me by my father who was a Jarl. Until those evil people killed them all, and took me because I resembled their god. After me and Marshy dealt with them at their palace, I went back and got my ax back…'
(FLASHBACK)
(2 years ago)
(After the Haelion incident)
Far up in the frostbitten reaches of the north, beyond the tales told at the hearth, lay the ancient Viking settlement of Elkestor. The village, ruled by the harsh, unyielding rhythms of nature and blade, was home to twelve-year-old Kael. His heart raced as he pushed through the icy winds, sprinting back to his village from the forests where he'd been gathering firewood.
As he approached, his steps slowed, senses assaulted by a reality too cruel to bear. The scene unfolding was one of nightmares; Kaelstor lay in ruins, smoldering under a sky choked with smoke. Homes that once stood strong against the biting cold were now but remnants, and the air sang a mournful tune as it whistled through charred timbers.
Kael stumbled through the remnants of what had been his world. His village, his family, his everything - ravaged, violated. The snow itself seemed to bleed as it cradled the fallen. Men, women, children - warriors— and innocent souls alike - melded together in the tragedy of their untimely demise. The ground was littered with the tools of their lives and their limbs; a tapestry of chaos and loss.
Cries escaped him, raw and fearsome, tearing at the thick curtain of silence that followed the massacre. Kael fell to his knees, clutching the cold ground, his heart shattering into fragments no warrior's steel could mend. His screams pierced the eerie calm, a lone voice in a symphony of despair.
Observing from a distance, framed by the swirling smoke, stood Marshy. She watched over Kael with a steady gaze softened by its own hidden grief. The scars of battle etched into her skin were no match for the scars this day would leave upon her soul.
Marshy clenched her firsts, she forced herself not to shed a tear, this event giving her her own flashbacks of what she went through, in which she struggled daily to forget about.
Together, with a resolve forged from the smoldering ruins, they undertook their sacred duty. With tender care, they gathered the ashes of their fallen brethren. Each vase they filled was a chalice of memories, a container for the once vibrant spirits of the village. These vases were carefully placed into a carriage, its sides adorned with runes begging for peace and protection.
The journey from the village was a long trek through the wild expanse of the known world and beyond, into lands whispered about in tales of old. They traversed the Grieving Forest, where the trees themselves seemed to mourn, their branches swaying with somber grace. The forest was alive, yet respectfully silent as if it recognized the gravity of their cargo.
The Ruins of Skogr stood hauntingly beautiful in their desolation. Here once stood a fortress of commerce and community, now reduced to whispered promises of glory and echoes of laughter. As Kael and Marshy passed, the free winds played among the stones, a lullaby for the souls they carried.
In their travels, they encountered creatures of myth and legend. Ethereal beings that watched from the cover of twilight, their luminescent eyes curious but cautious. The Nightriders, horsemen draped in starlight, paused in their eternal patrol to nod in solemn respect to the mourning travelers.
Through settlements of men, they moved unseen, unnoticed - specters against the vibrant bustle. Marketplaces exploded in colors and sounds, clashing vividly with the grayscale of their mission. Children played, lovers laughed, life moved on—it stung with the harsh reminder of their own altered reality.
Kingdoms of grandeur loomed on horizons. Each one was different from the last with different flags and emblems; From phoenix flags to raven flags— Fortresses of stone and spire stretched towards the heavens, flags fluttering like the beating hearts of the lands. Knights, in gleaming armor, rode under their crested banners, a dazzling display of the power and pride that seemed so distant from their humble quest.
Reaching the Cliff of Final Whisper, a precipice overlooking the Endless Waters, they found the legendary White Well. Sculpted from millennia of natural artistry, the well mirrored the celestial purity of the skies. Here, under the watchful gaze of the gods, they released the ashes. Each vase tipped released spirits into the ether, carried by the wind, embraced by the sea spray.
With their task completed, Kael and Marshy stood at the world's edge. Tears mixed with the salty breeze, grief commingling with release. Bound now by a shared journey through realms of old and hearts of sorrow, their eyes turned homeward. The road back was uncertain, shaped by the legacy of those they mourned and the unbreakable will to rebuild from the ashes of Kael's people.
Kael sobbed, "I wanna go…"
Marshy asked, "Where?"
"…The Tree…"
"Yeah? Fuck it. Me too. I got things I gotta take care of."
"Like what..?"
"A lot of things. Loose ends I guess."
"How come?"
"….Things. A lot of things I'm not proud of."
From that point on, The journey wasn't merely a path of mourning for Kael and Marshy; it was a crucible, transforming grief into strength, sorrow into steel. Every stop in their long wanderings became a temporary home—a place where they paused not only to honor the fallen but to forge themselves into instruments of vengeance and guardians of memory.
In the shaded boughs of the Grieving Forest, where melancholy seemed a tangible presence, Kael began to master the art of stonecraft, guided by Marshy's stern yet capable hands. Each rune that was embedded in his stone weapons, a word in the language of the ancients, speaking of protection, strength, and retribution. Their sparring sessions were brutal ballets; Kael's weapons clashed against the shadowy sword Marshy wielded—a blade as dark as the void between stars, capable of slicing through both light and flesh.
Marshy said, "You're getting stronger everyday, I'm jealous."
Kael replied, "Sorry.."
"Don't apologize! You're too nice! Harden up a little!"
"How?"
"Be mean!"
"But that's bad.."
"Tch. You're just like my son— nothing. Just don't be such a softie."
"Okay."
"We'll learn on keeping you awake after using your runic stonecraft magic, because you feel asleep after you used it all earlier against that corrupt and wicked king and queen."
"Okay.."
"You know how to use it, right?"
"A little bit. Not a lot."
Marshy thought, 'From what I heard, the ruins of his home—the once mighty Viking village of Kaelstor—held the secrets of an ancient rune language, infused not only into the fabric of their buildings but into the very spirit of its people. This cryptic language was Kael's inheritance, etched deep in the collective memory of his lineage, known to those who could wield the elements not of earth, air, fire, or water, but of the soul and shadow, of echo and essence. His people mastered these runes—each a powerful emblem that invoked ancestral forces and channeled them through crafted stone. His weapons, twelve in total which he's used in our sparring, were not just mere tools of war but sacred artifacts, each inscribed with runes that unleashed devastating forces upon their wield on a spiritual and existential plane. He has potential to become even stronger than me.'
As they moved from forest to ruin, from shadowed valley to sunlit glen, each home they built was both a fortress and a shrine. Sturdy defenses of stone and enchantment protected them from marauding beasts and men alike, while inside, Kael's fledgling powers crafted stone tables where Marshy would quietly place meals to share in silent camaraderie.
"Time to eat. Your stomach has been cursing me out all day."
Kael didn't say a word, he just sat down, ready for the food."
Marshy didn't eat, she just sat and watched, looking at Kael eat his food peacefully, his cheeks a dark pink in amusement to the taste of the food. As Marshy watched Kael, she saw flashbacks of her family eating with her, heading the soft laughs from them, but she stopped when Kael looked at her, saying, "Are you okay?"
Marshy looked away, saying, "N-Nothing. Nothing at all. Do you want some more food?"
"Will there be enough for you…? I don't want to be greedy."
"I'm not hungry, I lost my appetite after killing that goddess down below. And plus, you have to be well fed if you're going to get to the Divine Tree, right? You can't die of starvation."
"But wouldn't you die of starvation if you don't eat? I don't want to be alone again."
Marshy gasped slightly, and she sighed, "Fine I'll eat."
At that moment, Kael was making her a bowl of stew, and Marshy watched, her hand began to slightly shake, thinking, 'He really doesn't want to be alone, huh? Guess we aren't too far apart then.'
But the nights were different. It was during these dark hours that Kael's nightmares would thunder against the walls, specters of his slain kin wailing in the winds of his mind. Marshy, ever the sentinel, would sit by his side, her dark eyes reflecting the moonlight. She wanted to offer comfort, to reach out and soothe the boy's torment, but her own heart was a fortress of sorrow and remorse. Her comfort was the silent vigil, the presence that said, "You are not alone," even when her own shadows swallowed her words.
'Fuck. How can I even comfort him when I can't even comfort myself?'
Yet, through this shared crucible of night and day, of battle and quietude, their skills flourished. Marshy taught Kael not only the ways of war but also the subtler arts of survival and strategy. Her shadow sword danced and darted, teaching him to anticipate and react, while his burgeoning powers over stone tested her limits, forcing her to adapt and overcome.
Their journey was punctuated by encounters with lesser gods—beings of old and new power, drawn to the sorrow and strength that Kael and Marshy carried like a standard; Each god a different aspect of nature and nightmare, from goddesses to gods.
Defeating these gods was both a necessity and a release; with every fall of Marshy's shadow blade, with every blow struck by Kael's rune-lit stone weapons, they avenged a piece of their lost home. And with each victory, they left behind the makeshift home that had witnessed their growth, moving on to new lands, each locale a step closer to understanding their grief, their power, and their eventual path back to a home they would have to rebuild from memories and ashes. Through it all, Marshy's lessons grew more complex, and Kael's mastery of his gift deepened. They sparred with words and weapons, challenged each other's weaknesses, and shored up each other's strengths. Each training session carved a bit more of the warrior Kael would become and sharpened the edges of the leader Marshy had always been.
(Present day)
Kael sighed, "I kill gods too."
Everyone looked at Kael, and Marshy added, "You heard him right. We both do. Mostly running into those who use their created gods to do bad shit. But we're not heroes or vigilantes, I'm gonna tell the truth here, I need to kill a bunch of gods created from the Divine Tree to feed my Shadowrend. My ancestors passed the materials down to me to create the sword, in which they couldn't do it because they were all killed off by the Dark Trio: The Judge, The Jury, and the Executioner. I used to be a villain as you all know about me, but I don't care. But my husband and children were sent to hell because of the trio and I need to get them back, they did nothing wrong. I don't sugarcoat or hide anything, I always tell the truth. And if I don't wanna tell the truth, I just shut the hell up."
Kael said, "Marshy.."
'Why is Marshy saying all of this? Her hand is shaking a little..'
Marshy continued, "We travel and kill, that's it. Been doing it for 2 years already. People thought I was dead after everything I did years ago, but didn't know my family had to pay the price for my actions by the Dark Trio."
King Aldren said, "If you have been judged already by them, then we have no need to hinder your journey. And we stand with you, no one should have to go through what you did. As they travel across the world, each kingdom they visit is subjected to their trials. Kings and commoners alike are brought forth, and the trio dispenses justice that is invariably followed by either execution or indentured servitude. The Case of the Heretic Priest. Victim: Father Lemik of Solthra. Accusation: Heresy and witchcraft, accused of preaching salvation outside the doctrine. Outcome: During the trial, Father Lemik's pleas and evidence of innocence were overpowered by the Jury's manipulation of emotions among the townfolk, causing an uproar of outrage. The next case, the Victim: Widow Elissa of the town of Dranmere. Accusation: Poisoning her husband, whispered rumors fueled by her sudden inheritance. Outcome: Lady Amara, using her empathic powers, detected a concoction of fear and defiance from Elissa but sensed innocence on the charge of murder. However, under the Judge's stern gaze and the twisted truths unfolded from the Book of Truths, her fate was sealed. Accused of pact-making with dark entities for her husband's death, she was swiftly executed."
Marshy asked, "Why are you telling me all of this?"
"This was recent. The allied kingdom we are having a banquet with tonight…these were the cases the Dark Trio had helped them with."
"Really?!" Marshy asked with a smile.
"Yes. I tell you this because you dealt with a quest the other hunters guilds in the kingdom would not take, or they failed to finish. That really helped our case a lot. If it would've continued, we would've had to try and create a god from the Divine Tree, but who knows how long that would take."
Seraphine held her husband's hand softly, feeling his righteous thanks and genuine gratitude.
Elara looked away, pretending to vomit, "Ugh gross."
Kael added, "Nasty..?"
Queen Seraphine said to Marshy, "And because you completed this gruesome quest for us, we would love to invite you to a banquet tonight at the palace!"
Kael asked, "A banquet…?"
Elara said to Kael, "Never heard of one before? Damn you really are a Viking."
A knight bumped Elara on the shoulder, whispering, "Rude!"
Elara shrugged, "It's true!"
King Aldred continued, "This banquet with the kingdom of Solthra, our allies, is to discuss our plans for the upcoming battle against another kingdom we've been at war with for years. The kingdom of Dungr. They believe if they wipe out their enemies in a full out assault, then they can conjure a god faster at the Divine Tree."
Elara said, "That's dumb."
Marshy said to Elara, "I thought that too at first. The gods created from the Divine Tree are sentient, some of them would love to be worshiped or given a sacrifice at the Tree as the creation begins. Many scholars have been searching for possible ways to create the gods faster, doing whatever it takes, but nothing is guaranteed."
"Tch."
"Anyway.."
Queen Seraphine asked Kael, "You've never been to a banquet before? It's your lucky night!"
She got close to Kael, but Marshy said, "I wouldn't get too close."
"Hm? Why?"
"He's a nice kid, but he's deadly."
"Hmmm. He's been trained to kill?"
"He already knew how to kill. The Viking lands were under constant threat from neighboring tribes and opportunistic raiders. Training young boys like Kael to fight and defend was essential to secure the safety of their settlements and ensure that their people could live to see the morrows to come. Kael's skill with weapons would one day be the difference between life and death for his kinsmen, a somber reality that every Viking child understood early on. In Viking culture, ancestors held a revered place, their feats and valor recounted through sagas and songs. Kael was born into a legacy of famed warriors and rune crafters; hence, learning to fight and kill was also a way of honoring and connecting with his lineage. His training was not merely in the arts of warfare, but in the very ethos that his forebears embodied. Ascension to manhood in Viking society was marked by one's prowess in battle and ability to contribute to the clan's welfare. Kael's youth, spent in rigorous training, was a preparation for these rites of passage, through which he would have to prove his mettle and earn his place as a full-fledged member of the clan. In a world governed by the rule of strength and sharp blades, being trained in the ways of the warrior served a judicial function. Kael, like many Viking children, was taught to fight to protect himself, and enact justice where the laws of men were insufficient. It was part of maintaining the balance within his community and upholding the clan's honor. Skills in hunting, fighting, and killing were necessary for safeguarding one's own life against wild beasts and severe nature. Kael's training thus also served to armor him against the world itself."
King Aldred and Queen Seraphine and the knights all smiled in awe together, "Awesome!!"
"Stop acting like superfans. Treat us as if we were strangers. The old me would've loved it though."
Elara said to Kael, "So you really are strong, huh?"
Kael nodded at her.
Marshy walked up to Kael, knelt down, and asked, "Do you want to go to this banquet? We're not going if yog don't wanna."
Kael didn't hesitate to reply, "Yes!" He was smiling.
Marshy froze, she had never seen Kael smile before.
Marshy chuckled, rubbing his head, "Alright brat. We're going then."
Elara thought, 'I was hoping he'd say yes. Why did I? Am I interested in this boy?'
King Aldred and Queen Seraphine got excited as well, smiling and holding each other, "Yes! Just imagine, we get more lore of their journey and magic!"
Marshy and Kael looked at them with confusion, tilting their heads.
Kael said to Marshy, "They're weird."
"Yeah they are."
King Aldred said to a knight, "You escort these two the outside house near the palace, make sure they get special treatment."
"Yes sir!"
Marshy then said, "Just so you know, if you try ANYTHING fishy.."
King Aldred laughed, "Then we would be super foolish to do that to someone who helped our kingdom."
The knight said to Kael and Marshy, "Follow me! We gotta move fast!"
Marshy waved her hand, "Okay I heard you, geez."
As they were walking away, Elara asked her parents, "Can I go with them?"
Aldred responded, "It's best for you to stay here. Their journey could be dangerous on the way back."
"I'm strong. I train every single night, I'm ready."
Queen Seraphine commented, "We know. But you have to listen to your father. Yes that boy looks the same age as you, but he has been in more life or death situations than any of us, I can tell by looking in his eyes."
"You never let me do anything. And then you forcefully want me to marry the son of Solthra when I'm 18 in 4 years, all because that was the gift to him for what he's given the kingdom. Fuck that."
"Whoa, where did you learn that word?"
Elara turned around, folding her arms, "Nothing, don't worry about it. I just wanna be alone." Elara made her horse proceed further from them.
'They're so overprotective.'
King Aldred asked his wife, "We're good parents..right?"
Queen Seraphine replied, "Yeah, we are."